


Sunrise

by mariesondetre



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Coda, M/M, Season Finale, Season/Series 12, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 09:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariesondetre/pseuds/mariesondetre
Summary: Note: thank you to@amirosebooksfor the handprint idea. Hope it lives up to your expectations!And of course thank youRiefor the great beta-ing ♥(in this ficlet, Jensen needs to be forgiven by Misha for something, but I don’t know what. Feel free to imagine!)





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Восход солнца](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12574692) by [FoggyFeline71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoggyFeline71/pseuds/FoggyFeline71)



> Note: thank you to [@amirosebooks](http://amirosebooks.tumblr.com) for the handprint idea. Hope it lives up to your expectations!
> 
> And of course thank you [Rie](http://procasdeanating.tumblr.com) for the great beta-ing ♥
> 
> (in this ficlet, Jensen needs to be forgiven by Misha for something, but I don’t know what. Feel free to imagine!)

_Dean sinks down on his knees besides Cas' body, looking up, waiting for someone, something to come and undo what just happened. It can't be. Cas can't be dead. Finally he lowers his gaze on the beloved face. So still, like he's sleeping, and Cas so rarely sleeps. Dean's throat hurts, his chest hurts, he can barely breathe now. He doesn't know how much time passes, all he knows is that this is too much to bear, and the tears that finally escape him won't soothe him. He falls on Cas' chest and heaves through painful sobs, endlessly._

 

“ Cut! And stay in position as much as possible, please! Okay, that was good. We have about fifteen minutes before sunrise, so I'd rather the transition goes smoothly.”

Nobody claps, as would probably be the case if they had filmed such an emotional scene during day time. The on-set crew is reduced to the minimum at this hour, and everyone is exhausted. People are talking low and moving around without paying attention to Misha and Jensen still lying on the ground.

Misha opens his eyes and puts a hand on Jensen’s back. He knows he shouldn’t move too much if he wants to find the exact same position again, but Jensen’s sobs aren’t stopping, and he doesn’t like that. Tears are starting to wet his shirt and they aren’t fake. A tired Jensen shooting an emotional scene at 5 am was probably a bad idea, and Misha would have said so if he’d been asked.

“ Shhh, babe, it’s okay,” he whispers. He’s not even sure Jensen’s heard him; he continues weeping against Misha’s chest. Misha tries to take him back to the reality of the situation. “Come on, Jens, you’re going to smudge all your makeup on my wardrobe, and I can’t get up to change.” 

Misha keeps running his free hand through Jensen’s hair, and slowly the crying calms down, but Jensen stays in the same position, face hidden against Misha’s chest, as if he is ashamed to lift it and look at Misha. They just lie there, and the cold is starting to seep into their bodies from the ground when a PA comes to them, carrying a blanket. She doesn’t speak, just makes eye contact with Misha who nods silently, and she spreads the blanket clumsily over them.

It takes several minutes for Jensen to start to relax. Misha watches the sky gradually lightening, and the crew around them beginning to busy themselves again.

“ Okay, people, we need to do this one in one shot, you know that! No mistakes allowed, so get ready!”

The PA comes back to take the blanket away, and Jensen finally stirs as if he is coming out of a deep slumber. He lifts his head and catches Misha’s eyes.

“ Sorry,” he murmurs, “I… I’m sorry.” 

Misha can’t answer as someone comes up to reapply their makeup. The sky is starting to show a deep pink shade behind the mountains; in a minute, everyone except them draws back behind the camera line, and they hear a clap and a loud “Action!”

 

_The door of the small wooden house opens but Dean doesn’t move from where he’s slumped over Cas’ chest. A scrawny teenager, in a much too big flannel shirt that reaches his skinny knees, comes out of the house. His eyes glow gold and he’s smiling, a weird ecstatic smile. He goes down the few front steps, walking straight to where Cas lies. Behind him, Sam hesitates on the threshold, as if knowing he can’t change the boy’s actions in any way._

_The boy stops next to Cas, and Dean finally looks up when he hears him say, in a clear, high-pitched voice: “Castiel.” It’s not a question, not a plea, more like an affirmation, a simple statement._

_The sky has taken a bright hue of pink and gold, and exactly as the first ray of sun shines from behind the mountain across the lake, a blinding beam of light springs out from the Nephilim’s eyes to Castiel’s heart, right where the angel blade stabbed him. Cas’ body seizes as the dazzling light spreads through it, and Dean falls back on his ass, his eyes squeezed shut. He’s still numb from the shock of what happened in the last couple of hours and when a searing pain burns his shoulder, he doesn’t react except for a full-body flinch - and then the pain is gone, just like that, and the light too._

_When Dean opens his eyes, blue ones are staring back at him. His left shoulder throbs with his heartbeat, but he doesn’t care about it right now, doesn’t even want to glance at it for a second, because Cas is looking at him. With eyes full of life. And he’s breathing, and saying the one thing that Dean wasn’t expecting to hear ever again, “Dean”, in his unmistakable deep baritone._

“ _ Cas… is that you? Really you?” _

“ _ Yes. You are hurt. Let me...” and he lifts his hand towards Dean’s shoulder. This time, Dean looks down left, and he gasps. His shirt sleeve is burnt and there, on his shoulder, angry-red and swollen, is the same handprint he wore nearly ten years ago when he rose from his grave. Castiel’s handprint.  _

“ _ No, don’t,” he says as he stops Cas’ gesture. “I want to keep it. I want to keep you.” He’s dizzy and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter, because all that matters is Cas, not why he’s alive or how. He flings himself at Cas, and clings to him. He doesn’t want to ever let go. _

 

“ Cut! Awesome, you did it, guys!”

This time, the whole crew cheers. They all knew that they had to do it in one take, while the sun was rising; there was no room for errors, and it’s done. It worked, and now everyone just wants one thing: going to bed.

“ Y’all have twelve hours to rest, and we’ll start again this evening for a few hours only, so please come back well rested!”

Jensen takes several minutes to loosen his grip on Misha’s coat and let him draw back. They stare at each other, dazed and exhausted. Finally, Misha grabs Jensen’s arm and pulls him to his feet.

“ Come on, cowboy, let’s get you to bed. I’m sure you can at least walk to the car.”

“ Mish… I’m sorry.”

“ Shut up,” Misha offers, his tone softer than the words themselves. They’re approaching the car now, not having bothered with anything else, even saying goodnight (or day) to anyone, or removing their makeup. 

“ Can I… Please come and stay at my place,” and Jensen’s voice isn’t pleading, but strained and thin, and Misha knows he won’t deny him - and himself, if he’s being honest - the comfort. There’s no point in pretending he doesn’t need it too. 

“ Of course, assbutt.” The reference makes Jensen smile, at least. Misha opens the car door and they both slide on the back seat, squeezing close together, touching from shoulder to thigh. Jensen leans a bit stronger against Misha’s side until Misha, with a sigh, lifts his arm to allow Jensen to snuggle up to him. 

While they ride in silence, the sun keeps rising.

 

 


End file.
